


Alabanza

by writeitininkorinblood



Series: Out in the Barrio [1]
Category: In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-08-30 02:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8514574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeitininkorinblood/pseuds/writeitininkorinblood
Summary: How Sonny and Pete got together





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-No Me Diga! How Sonny and Pete got together... very slowly :')
> 
>  
> 
> [I know the ages are wrong! I googled it when I first started writing No Me Diga and the internet lied to me so it's been wrong from the offset and it was too complicated/I was too lazy to change it. In the musical Sonny is actually 16 so I fixed it slightly by deciding that Sonny is 16 at like the end of June :') ]

Sonny didn’t like the fact he didn’t find girls interesting. Sure, they were great friends and fun to talk to but every other boy in his grade was suddenly _interested_ in girls, and he just couldn’t be. He tried, pretending to have a crush on the most attractive girl in the year like everyone else, but it never felt real. Even when he tried kissing a few girls, mostly forced encounters courtesy of Spin the Bottle, it felt boring. He wasn’t interested in curves and long hair and soft lips. He told himself it was just because he was fifteen; he’d develop the mandatory _interest_ in a few years. He had to.

 

* * *

 

 

Usnavi forbid Sonny going to parties that involved alcohol and staying up late, but that didn’t mean Sonny didn’t go anyway. He snuck out every now and then, wincing as the fire escape creaked beneath his feet, and headed off to wherever the latest party was. It wasn’t something he did all the time, but every now and then he wanted to drink and dance.

Three beers was enough to get him suitably drunk that consequences didn’t seem to matter so much. This was something he’d learnt early on, and usually he’d stick to two but someone had pressed a third into his hand so he’d downed that too. Maybe the extra alcohol would help him finally want to kiss a girl rather than just talk to them about their day.

Sat on the sofa beside Pete, who was still only slightly buzzed, Sonny scrutinised every girl in the room and tried to feel something, _anything_ , that was remotely like what he heard his school friends talk about. Nothing.

“Sonny,” Pete laughed, “what the hell are you doing? Stop glaring at the entire room.”

Usually he would have protested his innocence and explained himself as best he could (without looking crazy), but Sonny was frustrated and drunk - not his best state. He scowled at Pete and stalked outside, taking what was left of this third beer with him as he followed the fire escape up to the roof. He just wanted a break from his fruitless attempts to act normal. To feel normal. Dull metallic footsteps told him Pete was following, concerned, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He sat down on the floor, back against the wall, and tried to ignore Pete’s presence.

“Hey, talk to me?” he asked, clearly worried, as he kneeled down in front of Sonny and looked into his eyes as if they held the secrets to his bad temper.

Sonny didn’t want to explain that he didn’t like girls the way he knew he was meant to, because he knew the obvious conclusion that Pete would jump to. And he wasn’t queer. He _wasn’t._ Not that Pete would even mind because he was pretty openly bisexual himself, but Sonny still didn’t want someone thinking that about him.

Except Pete was so close to him, a hand on his arm. It would be so easy to kiss him, just to see. Sonny wanted to prove that it felt just as boring and uninspiring as kissing girls did. So he leaned forward, clear in his intent, but Pete jerked away before anything could happen.

“Whoa?! Um, are you really that drunk that you can’t tell I’m not a girl, Sonny?” he joked, uneasily. He wasn’t sure if Sonny was being dared to do this, or if he was completely misunderstanding the situation, but he was cautious either way.

Finding some courage he didn’t know he had, Sonny shook his head.

“No,” he admitted. He wanted to kiss Pete more than he’d expected now he’d been denied the experience.

Pete blinked, confused even further,

“Wait, what?” he demanded, figuring he had the right to ask if Sonny had tried to kiss him.

Opening his mouth and frowning when no words came out of their own accord, Sonny sighed. He just wanted to try kissing a guy with no repercussions; he didn’t want to talk. But Pete probably did deserve an explanation.

“I know you’re not a girl,” he confirmed, attempting to justify that he was sober enough to understand exactly what was going on so Pete knew he wouldn’t be taking advantage.

Pete gawped. This was news.  This was huge news. He’d never seen any indication that his friend was queer.

“Sonny, are you…” he began, not sure how exactly how to word what he wanted to say. In the end he gave up and went for the most direct option. “Are you gay?”

The words hung around them and Pete didn’t miss how Sonny flinched. Maybe he was a little off the mark.

Sonny struggled with a reply. He wanted to say no. He almost did say no. But he felt so bad about lying to Pete that he shrugged and gave the vaguest answer he could think of.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. That was fair. He didn’t know. He just really hoped not.

“Well you just tried to kiss me…” Pete trailed off, not sure what he was getting at. He just wanted to try to understand so he could help.

Feeling his cheeks heat up, Sonny jumped to protest.

“It’s not like that. I don’t like you,” he explained.

Pete couldn’t help but laugh.

“Gee, thanks,” he snorted, more amused than offended. He knew Sonny didn’t mean to hurt him.

“Shut up,” Sonny groaned, rolling his eyes. “I mean I don’t like you _that_ way. I just… I want to test something.”

Telling Pete the truth seemed like the best plan of action. They were usually honest with each other and Sonny knew that, if it did turn out that he was gay, Pete wouldn’t mind. But that didn’t mean he was comfortable saying the word.

Pete had gone still, looking wounded.

“So I’m your science experiment to test your sexuality?” he asked, quiet and hurt.

Sonny shrugged, hugging his knees to his chest and making himself as small as possible.

“You make it sound awful,” he whispered.

He didn’t want to offend Pete, that was never his intention. He just wanted to understand why he didn’t feel like he fit in; he hadn’t considered Pete’s feelings in the situation.

“I don’t think it would sound great any way I say it, to be honest…” Pete admitted, raising an eyebrow. It was a testament to how lost Sonny was feeling that he would be so tactless – usually he was pretty receptive to other people’s emotions. It just made Pete all the more worried about him.

“Sorry,” Sonny mumbled. “I just… I don’t know.”

He reached for the beer he’d brought up with him and took a swig from it before Pete took it away and poured out the last few dregs out onto the concrete floor, ignoring Sonny’s complaints.

“Okay, no. You’ve had enough,” Pete explained, giving him a stern look.

Pouting, Sonny crossed his arms.

“Says the guy who’s drunk at least double what I have?” he said pointedly. Pete tended to drink four or five pints at a party, used to people buying him drinks that he was happy to accept and, on occasion, share with Sonny.

“I can take it. You can’t,” he pointed out, more used to drinking and not as skinny as Sonny was. He could handle his alcohol.

“I’m trying to drink enough that I forget this whole thing even happened in the morning. Please cooperate,” Sonny complained.

“Here,” Pete sighed, too tired and too drunk to get into a ridiculous argument. He gave in and pulled Sonny close for an ungraceful, brief kiss. Or that’s what he meant to do, but when Pete buried his hand in Sonny’s hair and tasted cheap wine on his lips, he didn’t pull away as quickly as he’d meant to. He’d never thought about Sonny that way – he hadn’t let himself. Fantasising about straight guys was an activity that was far less painful when those straight guys in question were restricted to celebrities he could never get anyway. But if Sonny wasn’t straight? If he was bisexual or gay or even bicurious, Pete couldn’t deny that it was a tempting idea. So he let the kiss go on a little longer than he probably should have, pressing Sonny back against the wall and exploring his mouth less than innocently. It wasn’t like it wasn’t all being reciprocated; Sonny hands were fidgeting at the hem of Pete’s shirt, wriggling underneath to flatten against his stomach and caress small circles with his fingertips. When those hands started roaming up, Pete figured he shouldn’t let things go much further. Pulling away and gently removing Sonny’s hands, he took a couple of moments to get his breath back.

“So? Feel anything?” he asked, his voice still a little ragged.

Sonny blinked, his mind not quite back under his control yet. He looked down at his hands as if he wasn’t sure how they’d been returned to his lap when they’d been so happy and warm against Pete’s stomach. His lips were tingling and he had an embarrassing urge to rub them. Instead he looked away and shook his head slowly.

“No,” he lied, convincing neither himself nor Pete.

He hadn’t known it was going to feel like _that_. Like he wanted to keep kissing Pete and _never_ stop - so far removed from when he had tried to kiss girls and the entire experience had been adequate at best. But he couldn’t be gay. He kept imagining Usnavi’s face if he ever found out: angry and disappointed and ashamed. It was just that the girls he was kissing weren’t experienced enough, that he wasn’t experienced enough. He needed practise. _With Pete,_ his mind suggested, before he stamped that idea out and tried to replace it with one of the attractive girls in his grade. It would feel the same with them. Eventually. It had to.

 

* * *

 

 

He threw himself into crushing on Nina. If he couldn’t like the person that he desperately wanted then he needed a distraction, and it didn’t hurt that she was so different from Pete. For starters, she was a girl. And she was neat and book smart and political. Pete was rough around the edges, more street smart than anyone Sonny knew, and he was creative and passionate. He was addictive. But he was also a _he_ and therefore extremely off limits. So Sonny pretended to love the girl miles and miles away so he didn’t have to face the fact he was actually far more interested in someone a lot closer to home.

 

* * *

 

 

The day Abuela Claudia died, Pete itched to be close to Sonny. He hated seeing him cry and there was nothing he wanted more than to be holding him and reassuring him that everything would be okay. But Sonny wasn’t his boyfriend. So he watched him grieve with Usnavi, feeling incredibly distant and painfully helpless. Eventually he left the impromptu memorial, opting to hide himself in his apartment and mourn the barrio’s Abuela alone.

Until a knock at the door came.

No one really came to visit so Pete didn’t answer, assuming it was someone wanting to sell him something. Then it sounded again, loud and rapid, and whoever it was was clearly determined enough to get an answer that Pete figured they deserved to at least be told to fuck off face to face.

He opened the door to find Sonny, and his heart broke. His eyes were red and swollen, rubbed raw in an attempt to scrub away tears, and his hands were shaking. Pete instinctively stood to the side and let him in.

“I… I-I told him - Usnavi, I was going out. For a walk. I… I can’t-” Sonny babbled, sounded worn and broken. He couldn’t finish his sentence, instead sighing and reaching out. “Please,” he begged, not knowing exactly what he wanted but knowing Pete could provide it.

Pete wasn’t about to say no. Even if Sonny wasn’t his boyfriend, he was still his friend and he never wanted to see him so upset. He couldn’t bring Abuela back – no one and nothing could, but he could help Sonny feel less alone.

“Come here,” he encouraged, holding out a hand and leading Sonny over to his beaten up sofa, pulling him down and into a warm embrace.

Burrowing and relaxing in Pete’s arms, Sonny leached off his emotional strength. His sense of loss was strong enough to outweigh his sense of guilt that came from cuddling close to another boy. As his urge to burst into tears began to subside, courtesy of the gentle circles Pete was rubbing into his back, Sonny became hyperaware that they were completely alone and had more privacy than they ever had before. He wanted to forget and nothing helped take up his mental capacities like Pete.

Turning his head a little so his lips were resting against Pete’s throat, Sonny began to press featherlike kisses on the same spot until Pete looked down and he could kiss his mouth instead. Pete returned the kiss for a long moment before his morals took over and he pushed back on Sonny’s shoulder.

“Sonny… This is a bad idea,” he explained, despite the fact he was yearning to keep going probably as much as Sonny was. But he was older and had to be more sensible.

“Why?” Sonny whined, complaining. It didn’t feel like a bad idea. It felt like the best idea. If he was making out with Pete then he wasn’t thinking about Abuela or the fact Usnavi was leaving or Benny’s apparent relationship with Nina that meant he didn’t feel comfortable using her as a decoy crush anymore, for either his heart or his image. Pete made everything hurt less, and that was what he needed right now.

“You’re upset,” Pete said gently, not wanting to force him back to that distraught place he’d been in when he’d knocked on the door. But grief was complicated and Sonny clearly wasn’t in a good place even though he’d stopped crying. Pete had to be the responsible one.

“So?” Sonny protested.

He pouted, not caring how much he looked like a child. He just wanted to be kissed until he forgot why his heart felt shattered.

“You don’t want this,” Pete argued. “You don’t know what you want.”

Sonny might not have been drunk this time, but he still wasn’t mentally stable. He wasn’t in the right state of mind to consent and Pete was far too sober in comparison to feel like he wouldn’t be taking advantage.

“Yes, I do,” Sonny promised, and he wasn’t lying. He knew exactly what he wanted, he just didn’t let himself want it most of the time. Usually alcohol was the key, but grief was just as potent.

Pete could see how convinced Sonny thought he was of his own desires, but he wasn’t buying it. Only a few hours earlier he’d been proclaiming his love for Nina, and Pete couldn’t say that didn’t sting. Even if Sonny wanted him, he wasn’t in a place to make that a physical thing. Pete wasn’t in to dating people who couldn’t admit who they were to themselves.

“No. We will talk about this another time. Not now,” he said firmly.

If Sonny wanted to work through whatever he was struggling with then Pete would happily talk to him about it. But not now. Not today.

“Fine,” Sonny groaned, slumping back down against Pete’s side and screwing up his nose. Even if Pete wasn’t going to kiss him, Sonny wasn’t going to give up the warm place against his side where all the bad things in the world were kept at bay for just a little while. Pete couldn’t say he minded. He held Sonny close and resumed the comforting circles on his back until he felt his friend relax into sleep. He couldn’t let him sleep forever, since Pete knew he had a curfew and he didn’t want Usnavi to worry. Especially now. But he could have some time to rest before Pete had to wake him up.

As Sonny slept Pete thought everything over. Sonny was clearly still working out who he was, and he could respect that. He needed time and he might not even want Pete at the end of the process, but that was all okay. Or it would be. Eventually. Pete couldn’t deny that he didn’t want to let Sonny go.

 

* * *

 

 

It was two weeks later when Sonny tried to kiss him again. Except this time there was less of the fumbling innocence that there had been before. The party was at Pete’s house this time and his bedroom was off limits to guests, except Sonny had decided he was the exception to this rule (and to be fair he was the exception to most of Pete’s rules) and he was lying on Pete’s bed, tipsier than normal, when Pete went to check no one was throwing up in there. When Sonny looked over at him, eyes dark and lips red from cheap wine, Pete cursed his luck. He was trying to hide how attracted he was to his friend, and that was so much easier when Sonny didn’t look wrecked and sinfully enticing even though no one had touched him. Or at least Pete hoped no one had touched him; he could feel jealousy threatening to bubble at the base of his stomach.

Sonny reached out a hand to gesture him over and Pete couldn’t help but go. He knelt beside him on the bed, unsure what Sonny wanted and where this was going. The party was still going on outside the door but it felt like they were in a bubble. When Sonny pulled him down and kissed him roughly, Pete didn’t protest as quickly as he should have. He went willingly and let his own intoxication work as an excuse for why he pushed Sonny back against the pillows without hesitation. Until Sonny thrust his hips upwards and Pete quickly scrambled away. That was too far. Not whilst Sonny was drunk. Not whilst Sonny was underage. Not whilst Sonny still didn’t know exactly what he wanted.

“Sonny, you’re drunk,” Pete pointed out, trying to put a decisive end to the situation. Kissing whilst they were both drunk was probably morally ambiguous but sex, or anything pertaining to it, was off limits entirely. They were already doing things they shouldn’t be.

“No, I’m not,” Sonny lied, hiccupping even as he said it. He’d had a little more to drink than he usually would – Usnavi was visiting Vanessa downtown for the first time so he wouldn’t be there at breakfast to wonder why Sonny couldn’t string two sentences together. Copious alcohol completely dissolved his inhibitions and those were the only things that stopped him wanting to experiment a whole lot more. 

“Say antidisestablishmentarianism and walk in a straight line,” Pete requested, reciting the longest word he knew, one he’d learnt for the sole purpose of testing sobriety.

Sonny groaned. He’d had this before and Pete knew he tripped over the syllables even when he hadn’t been drinking.

“I can’t say that sober,” he glared, before realising that Pete’s only objection had been his level of intoxication. “So tomorrow we could…” he trailed off, reaching out to rest a hand on his leg.

“ _No_ ,” Pete yelped, wriggling away. “I can’t. You’re a kid, Sonny. Usnavi would kill me. _I’d_ kill me,” he sighed, burying his face in his hands. He wanted what Sonny was insinuating, whatever that was, and that scared him. He’d been trying to put a stop to whatever was going on between them, since Sonny still seemed to have no idea what he wanted, but he was terrible at pushing him away.

“I’m fifteen. That’s not a kid,” Sonny protested.

“And I’m eighteen,” Pete retorted.

“I’m almost sixteen,” Sonny tried again. “Two weeks. And I’m legally allowed to consent.” He’d researched it and everything, and there’d be nothing illegal about sleeping with Pete in any shape or form.

Pete’s cheeks went scarlet. He knew it was legal. He’d looked it up, just in case. But just because it was legal didn’t meant it was a good idea, and he wasn’t going to let anything happen.

“ _Still_. No. Bad idea,” he said, determined.

“I disagree,” Sonny sighed, settling down next to Pete and resting his head on his thigh.

That wasn’t new. Sonny used almost anything and everything remotely soft as a pillow, and Pete had been used to it even when they were exclusively friends who _did not_ make out with each other.

“I know you do. You’re wrong,” he replied, unable to stop his hand from finding it’s way into Sonny’s hair and combing through his short curls, scratching gently at his scalp with blunt fingernails.

Sonny let out a satisfied sigh, relaxing in to the touch like a cat, his body pliant and relaxed under Pete’s fingers.

“So convincing,” he smirked. Pete seemed more than willing to make him feel good, that could definitely conceivably extend to less innocent endeavours.

Poking Sonny playfully in the shoulder, Pete pulled a face. They didn’t talk about the future because they never even spoke about the present, but they needed to. Someday. For now Sonny still didn’t seem sure of anything other than the fact he wanted to experiment some more, and Pete wasn’t going to push it.

 

* * *

 

 

Sonny didn’t try pushing things so far again, but he still gravitated towards Pete when they were both drunk. It was the only time Sonny let himself feel something for him, and the only time Pete wouldn’t immediately push him away. Every time he could sneak out to a party, about once a month, he would end up on a fire escape or in a cramped cupboard with Pete, and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from pulling him close and kissing him desperately before Pete would find his thoughts and remember that Sonny was inebriated and too young and, supposedly, straight. So he’d regretfully push him away, knowing full well they’d just be back in the same situation in a few weeks’ time. It was getting ridiculous, but he couldn’t bring himself to be the one to put an end to it entirely.

 

* * *

 

 

“So,” Sonny said, sat watching Pete paint a commissioned mural for a youth club in an otherwise empty building.

Pete stopped what he was doing, not able to concentrate on the design and on talking at the same time. When Sonny didn’t say anything else he prompted him.

“So?” he asked, his voice muffled through his respirator.

“We’ve been making out at parties and never talking about it for two years now. When are we going to address that?” Sonny asked quickly, forcing it all out in one breath.

He’d been trying to find the perfect time to bring up the situation since he’d turned seventeen. They were still only kissing, neither of them trying anything further, but it was something that Sonny loved. He didn’t know if there was the potential for something else there, but it seemed worth the risk to ask.

Pete put his paint down, pulling off his mask and stepping away from the half-finished tree on the wall. If they were having this conversation then he wanted to do it right. He sat down opposite Sonny and shrugged.

“Now? Apparently...?” He asked, waiting for Sonny’s nod before continuing. “I was waiting on you. Are you… I mean… Have you… Do you even know what you are? I mean gay, straight, bi, whatever?”

He didn’t want to presume anything. He was pretty sure Sonny wasn’t straight, considering how often they made out, but anything else was possible.

“Gay. I… I think I’m gay,” Sonny confirmed. He still wasn’t used to saying the word, but it seemed important to get used to it. He felt it. It made sense with everything he’d been experiencing from the moment he realised he wasn’t interested in girls.

“Okay. Cool,” Pete nodded slowly, wincing at how pathetic he sounded to his own ears. “And is this… Is it me because I’m bi and here and that’s just convenient for a little experimentation. Or is it me because of… something else?” he asked uncertainly, not wanting to put words in Sonny’s mouth.

There was a long beat of silence where Pete got more and more worried, until Sonny finally admitted to his feelings.

“Something else,” he whispered, shifting awkwardly.

“Oh.” Pete was overwhelmed. He wanted to pull Sonny in for a kiss, but they weren’t done talking.

“Yeah,” Sonny mumbled. After another long silence he addressed the elephant in the room. “I’m seventeen.”

“You are,” Pete nodded. The age gap still bothered him a little, but not so much anymore now Sonny was older. He felt less like he was cradle snatching.

“You’re not that much older,” Sonny said, looking up under his eyelashes as if he was afraid of how Pete was going to react to his words.

“Three years,” Pete confirmed, not giving any emotion away because he was convinced he’d cry if he did.

“Two years,” Sonny argued. Pete was nineteen.

“Two years and ten months. Same thing,” Pete laughed, rolling his eyes. Oh course Sonny would find an in to debate about age.

Taking the risk he’d been afraid of for more months than he cared to count, Sonny asked asked the question just loud enough for Pete to hear him.

“Do you want…” he trailed off, knowing the message would get across anyway.

“To be a thing?” Pete checked, wanting to make sure they were on the same page. He took Sonny’s hand on impulse, stroking a small circle with his thumb.

“Yeah,” Sonny nodded.

Pete wrinkled his nose at how clinical this all felt. He just wanted to be dating Sonny already.

“Yeah,” Pete confirmed, hoping that was the end of the conversation because he wanted a kiss so badly.

“Yeah?” Sonny asked, unsure. He wasn’t used to doing this and he needed to be certain Pete was happy with what they were getting into.

Smiling fondly at his nervousness, Pete kissed his hand and held it to his cheek.

“Yes, Sonny,” he reassured. “I want to make this just us. Exclusive. No other hook ups. I want this to not be a hook up. I want it to be-”

“A relationship?” Sonny interrupted, eager and hiding a huge grin.

“Yeah. That,” Pete established.

“Cool. Me too,” Sonny agreed, unnecessarily.

Pete pulled him closer into a hug, aware they could probably both go on babbling at each other forever. They’d had so long to get over their nerves and hesitations and now they could just find their way comfortably into a relationship. Pete couldn’t wait.


	2. Chapter 2

Pete quickly grew to love kissing Sonny. It was really difficult not to now that he never felt guilty about it anymore, but they were limited in where they could go and it was getting infuriating. He accepted that Sonny wasn’t ready to come out: that wasn’t a problem. It just meant they couldn’t kiss in public, or anywhere someone could easily walk in on them, and the barrio was a pretty small place when all that was ruled out.

Their apartments had never seemed like an option. Even when Usnavi was visiting Vanessa, Sonny never invited him up and it took Pete a while to realise that he was hesitant about going too fast, and being alone in a place with beds made it seem like one thing was going to lead to another. Although Sonny had been fairly enthusiastic before they’d officially gotten together, he was nervous now those things could be a reality. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Pete or thought he was going to push things, the idea of being alone together just seemed intimidating.

Pete wasn’t sure whose idea kissing in the stock room at the bodega was, but it was both genius and abysmal. No one was going to interrupt them, as long as it was only Sonny on shift, but it was dark and cramped and uncomfortable. Pete had a perfectly decent, if somewhat beaten up, sofa in his apartment that would prove a far better option. Deciding he’d had enough of acting like they were hiding from something, Pete gently pushed back on Sonny’s shoulders and took his hand.

“Come on,” he prompted, taking a step towards the door.

Sonny didn’t move, confused. He’d been happy and he didn’t want to go back to work quite yet. Kissing Pete was a far more attractive concept.

“Where?” he asked.

There was a beat of silence where Pete wondered if he should go through with this. But nothing had to happen, and he’d make sure Sonny knew that.

“My place,” he ventured quietly, a little unsure.

Just as he predicted, Sonny jumped to the wrong conclusions.

“Oh… Pete, I don’t think I’m ready for-” he stuttered, self-conscious.

“No!” Pete leapt to explain. “I didn’t mean… Closets are just getting a little too cliché, and alleyways are kinda depressing,” he mumbled, offering a shy smile so Sonny knew everything was going to be alright.

“So we don’t have to…” Sonny checked, trailing off so he didn’t have to put the obvious into words. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Pete like that, but he wanted to wait just a little longer. He wanted to feel comfortable with whatever they did, and right then he wasn’t sure if he was there yet.

Using the hand he still held to tug Sonny closer, Pete pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Only what you’re happy with, cariño,” he mumbled.

Sonny shivered at the name. He knew it meant _sweetheart_ , _my love_ , _darling_ , and he loved hearing the Spanish equivalent. It reminded him of family and home, and it was nice to be reminded someone cared about him. Usnavi didn’t often say the words. It wasn’t that Sonny didn’t know he mattered, because it was obvious that Usnavi worried about him and loved him, but the direct affirmation from Pete made his heart beat a little quicker.

There was half an hour until Sonny’s shift ended and he had to shut down the store and, although he knew Usnavi would be less than impressed if he knew he’d closed early, he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to not do it. He pulled Pete along with him as he cashed up the till and turned off the lights, supressing giggles every time they made eye contact. He felt like a teenager falling in love for the first time, unwilling to admit that’s exactly what he was.

He let go of Pete’s hand just before they stepped outside. Anyone could see them, and Sonny wasn’t ready for that yet. He pulled the grate across and offered Pete a small smile as they walked in the direction of the apartment Sonny hadn’t been in since they’d started dating.

*

They were greeted by a sofa covered in cans of paint and a pile of white t-shirts that Pete wanted to dye. He could have almost kicked himself, forgetting all the mess until he was faced with it – it was hardly impressive to his boyfriend. He hurried to move it, just wanting to get back to kissing Sonny as soon as possible.

Resting a hand on Pete’s shoulder, Sonny shyly gestured over to Pete’s room. Eyes wide, Pete nodded quickly and led him to his bed. He knew that didn’t mean sex, and he didn’t care. It meant Sonny was comfortable and that meant even more.

Kissing felt so much better when they weren’t cramped or cold or tense. They hadn’t done this before. Kissing used to be messy and uncoordinated and often it tasted of alcohol, but this was sweet and gentle. Everything was soft and warm: Pete’s sheets under Sonny’s back; Pete’s hands on his hips, making Sonny sigh when he pushed them up under the hem of his t-shirt to rub circles on his skin; Pete’s lips against his. Sonny had to admit that Pete’s idea had been a great one. This was way better than the storage cupboard at the bodega.

Pete stopped as soon as Sonny moved away a little.

“You alright?” he asked, brushing a thumb over Sonny’s lip where it was reddened and a little swollen. He couldn’t believe he was _allowed_ to make him look like that. It was sinfully attractive, at least to him.

Sonny nodded, wriggling down the bed a little to rest his head against Pete’s chest. He needed a break to just breathe and calm down a little, not wanting things to get out of hand. Pete seemed to be able to tell what he was getting at, because he let him just lie there without asking any other questions. He ran his fingers through Sonny’s short curls, smiling when the action earned him a hum of satisfaction.

“I love you,” Pete said, without thinking. But when it made Sonny grin he couldn’t find it in himself to want to take the words back.

“Yeah?” Sonny asked, smiling indulgently. “I bet you say that to everyone who you invite into your bed,” he teased, knowing there wasn’t anyone else.

“No. Only you,” Pete promised. He kissed Sonny’s forehead- the easiest place to reach.

A little taken aback by the sincerity in his boyfriend’s voice, Sonny was speechless for a moment before he forced some words.

“Oh. Well, I love you too,” he mumbled, burying his face in Pete’s shirt to hide the blush he felt rising in his cheeks.

Pete let his arm fall to rest around Sonny’s shoulders, holding him close. They didn’t need any other words. Sonny was going to have to get up and go home at some point, so Usnavi wouldn’t get suspicious, but they had almost an hour to alternate between kisses and just lying together, and Pete was insanely proud of his idea.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My last chapter for this series! Sorry it took so long :)

Pete was more than used to Sonny letting himself into his apartment and making himself at home. He’d never complain, though, because he liked having his boyfriend around watching his television or napping on his sofa. It was adorably domestic and Pete never wanted to let him go but he had school and work and the longer he was away the more suspicious Usnavi would get. But it wasn’t too rare to have Sonny just walk in and collapse onto the nearest soft surface, usually to rest his head on Pete’s shoulder and press soft kisses to his neck to distract him and demand attention.

This time when Sonny walked through the door, he shut it behind him and turned to rest his head back on it, clearly frustrated. Before Pete could even ask what was wrong, Sonny spoke.

“Have sex with me,” he said, bluntly and without explanation.

It took Pete a moment to realise exactly what Sonny had said and as soon as he did his eyes widened and any attempts to reply were interrupted by a choking reflex. When he finally had control of his vocal cords again he forced out a response.

“Sonny! What?! No!” He spluttered.

It wasn’t that he didn’t _want_ to, but he hadn’t thought Sonny was there yet and the sudden information otherwise was a bit of a shock.

Sonny sighed and turned again, leaning back against the door and pouting. He looked so sad that Pete wanted to bundle him into a hug and stroke his hair, not ruin his innocence.

“I need to forget that my cousin would probably hate me if he found out I liked guys,” Sonny mumbled, less sure of himself now he was actually at Pete’s apartment.

Later Pete would ask and it would turn out that Usnavi had rolled his eyes when a gay couple had been shown on TV. Sonny had spooked a little and ran off somewhere he felt a bit safer, making vague excuses and promising he’d be back by curfew. But Pete didn’t think to ask at the time, instead raising an eyebrow and questioning Sonny’s logic.

“And doing something that he would almost definitely disprove of is the way to do that?” he asked gently, trying to get Sonny to see some sense.

Shrugging and wrapping his arms around himself defensively, Sonny stuck resolutely to his original statement.

“I think it would be a pretty efficient distraction,” he said.

Pete couldn’t argue with that; it probably would take Sonny’s mind off whatever Usnavi had done to upset him. But that didn’t mean it was a good idea. He beckoned Sonny over to sit beside him on the sofa and chastely kissed his cheek. If he was sad then Pete definitely wanted to cheer him up, but not like that.

“That’s not a good reason to have sex for the first time, Sonny. The twentieth time? Sure. But not the first,” he explained.

Sonny looked over at his ridiculously patient boyfriend and suddenly it occurred to him that he really did want to sleep with him. Because whilst everyone else thought he was abrasive and a little wild, Sonny knew he was kind and funny and adorably panicked when he thought he’d done something wrong that he didn’t know how to recover from. Sonny didn’t want it to be with anyone else. He subtly tried to change his tactics, returning Pete’s kiss by tracing his lips up his neck.

“How about because I love you?” he whispered, punctuating the phrase with a hot kiss under Pete’s jaw. “Or because I want my first time to be you? Or because you have no idea how much I want you right now? Any of those reasons work for you? Take your pick,” he offered.

The air stilled between them. Pete gaped for a while, realising quite how serious Sonny was about this. He couldn’t fault the new logic; they were as good reasons as any for wanting to have sex. Besides, Sonny’s body was warm against his side and his lips were sweet and hot and Pete really wasn’t in a good mind to reject that. So he turned his head and kissed back. He was a teenage boy with a sex drive, what else was he supposed to do when his boyfriend propositioned him so politely.

“Shit,” he groaned between kisses, officially accepting that he was giving up on suggesting this was a bad idea. He felt Sonny grin against his lips and rolled his eyes at the smug bastard he’d chosen to fall in love with.

***

Sofas weren’t conducive to making someone’s first time particularly good. The thought occurred to Pete when they were both already shirtless and everything was intoxicating and wonderfully thrilling. He realised that he wanted Sonny’s first time to be slightly better than on a ratty old couch and he abruptly pulled away and grabbed his hand, leading him in the direction of the bedroom. They stumbled and giggled but eventually they made it to the bed.

Sonny looked up at Pete and suddenly had no idea what to do next.

"I don't know what I'm doing,” his mumbled, his cheeks bright red. He still wanted this, he just didn’t know how to get it. What was the next step meant to be?

Pete smiled reassuringly and brushed his fingers through Sonny’s hair. It was endearing that he was suddenly nervous when he’d just been so confident not a few minutes ago. From the way his hands were fidgeting over Pete’s chest it was a problem of having too much he wanted to do as supposed to not wanting to do anything.

"Yeah you do. You've done this before; we've gone further than this,” he reminded. And they had, but before there’d always been an end point, a place where either one or both of them would say stop. Now that security was gone and it made things a little more confusing. Pete tried to bring Sonny back to the present, instead of fretting about what was to come. “Just follow your instincts. What do you want to do?" he prompted.

"Kiss you,” Sonny answered instantly. Then he thought for a second and all he could focus on was Pete’s fingers combing through his hair and he had to sigh and add "never let you stop doing that."

Pete just laughed, pressing a kiss to Sonny’s cheek.

"Both of those can be arranged."

It got easier after that. It wasn’t hard to relax when Pete was being so sweet. Sonny knew he would never feel quite as happy and at home as he did when Pete was whispering in his ear and sex just made everything _more_. It was so much to process that the first coherent thought that occurred to him was that he needed to do it again as soon as possible because he was certain he’d missed some things that he hadn’t had time to catch and remember. He was pretty sure Pete wasn’t going to protest.

*

Pete could get used to basking in the afterglow with Sonny tracing patterns on his chest. Absentmindedly returning the favour by skating his fingertips over Sonny’s back, he pressed a kiss to his hair and broke their comfortable silence.

“How do you feel?” he asked, gently. This was most likely a bigger thing for Sonny than it was for him and he didn’t want to lose sight of that, no matter how much he wanted to obsess over his new memories of how Sonny sighed his name.  


Sonny hummed for a long moment, unsure how to put how he felt into words. He decided on just blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

“Did you know that there’s a study that says men find women less attractive after they’ve had sex with them. Something about evolution and having as many kids as possible,” he said, like he was reciting from a textbook.

Pete blinked at him, lost for words. When Sonny didn’t offer up any further context he scraped together all his faculties to form some sentences.

“Okay, usually I find the clever thing cute, but... Are you saying you like me less now we’ve slept together?” he asked cautiously.

Sonny looked up at him innocently, before breaking out into a sleepy smile.

“Are you saying you’re a woman?” he asked cheekily.

Rolling his eyes, Pete elbowed Sonny gently and huffed.

“Seriously, how are you?” he asked. Sonny’s wellbeing was the most important thing to him.

“A little achy, but good,” Sonny promised. “Really good. That was… intense,” he said, struggling to find an alternative word. It was a lot.

“Intense is a good thing?” Pete pushed gently, needing to be sure that everything was alright.

Sonny laughed, low and content. “Stop worrying! Felt awesome; don’t regret it for a second. Just can’t process it all right now.”

Pete pressed a kiss to the top of his head in response, holding him closer. There was nothing but that room and they had all the time in the world to bask and doze together. Sonny seemed to have completely forgotten everything that had been upsetting him before, drifting in and out of consciousness in a way that told Pete he was completely comfortable, like a dog sleeping on its back. Eventually Sonny summoned enough energy to pick up his phone and check it, making sure he hadn’t missed anything important. The time stared up at him and he groaned.

“We picked a crap time to do this,” he sighed, pouting.

The words, with so little explanation, had Pete concerned.

“What?! But you said-” he started, shifting a little and getting a complaining whine from Sonny when he jostled him.  
“Chill, I just meant that I don’t want to leave,” he said.

Pete automatically held Sonny tighter, never wanting to let him go. “You don’t have to.”

“Curfew is in forty-five minutes,” Sonny explained, holding out his phone and showing Pete the problem. “I need to get up and get dressed and get home. But I don’t want to.”

A blanket of silence fell over them, all of the problems Sonny had had when he’d walked in the door coming back. He couldn’t tell Usnavi where he’d been, or what he’d been doing, for risk of being disowned or punished for it. Pete nudged his chin up gently, pressing a soft kiss to his lips that was full of reassurance and love.

***

The next morning when Sonny came down for his shift at the bodega, Usnavi looked at him strangely.

“Hey, Sonny, are you okay?” he asked.

Fear flooded into Sonny’s bloodstream and he stopped in his tracks. What did Usnavi know? Had Daniela found out and gossiped? Or could Usnavi just tell by looking at him that he’d slept with Pete?

“Yes. Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t you think I was okay?” Sonny stuttered, banking on the fact that Usnavi didn’t actually know and was just speculating.

“You seem different?” Usnavi suggested, confused as to why Sonny was on the defence. He’d had a smile on his face when he’d walked into the bodega that Usnavi hadn’t seen before and there had to be a way to explain it.

“Nope, not different at all. Why would I be different?” Sonny cursed himself even as he said the words. He should have just taken it all calmly – now he just looked suspicious.

“Okay…” Usnavi trailed off. “I figured you’d got new shoes or something? New cap?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sonny managed, hightailing into the stock room and hiding his face in his hands. He needed to be more casual. Usnavi wouldn’t suspect a thing if he could just act normal. So he’d slept with Pete. So he’d lost his virginity to a boyfriend Usnavi didn’t even know he had. He just had to pretend nothing had happened, because absolutely no one could know. The barrio wasn’t an easy place to keep secrets.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> There will be two more mini chapters to this, hopefully! Both set pre-No Me Diga.


End file.
